


holiest thing i know

by valkyrierising



Category: Monsters of Verity - Victoria Schwab
Genre: Deleted Scenes, F/M, Fingerfucking, First Time, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Underage Sex, canon spoilers in the notes beware
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 07:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11270547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valkyrierising/pseuds/valkyrierising
Summary: A part of him yearns for another life, where they’re not monster and human, where the world isn’t like this and they could have a picnic underneath the stars. And isn’t that just his luck, that the girl who he’d been ordered to use as leverage and kill had become something like an anchor.Strange times they were in.





	holiest thing i know

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from glass animals 'holiest'. scene set directly after they kiss and escalates because that's how I roll and if she's going to die, then at least let them fuck.

August doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

 

With her. 

 

With any of this.

 

It’s strange to remember that he’s the leader of the FTF, one of the last few sunai in the city that could help save them. But he doesn’t feel that in this moment, the burden he’s carried since Leo died and fended Sloan off loosening around him. It’s a strange slackness that leaves him because Kate is  _ here  _ and she’s  _ alive _ . Still trapped in this world, but still kicking and if that isn’t both a good and bad omen he doesn’t know what it is. The peace that he didn’t know he’d been reaching for settling in him as they lie on his bed. A part of him yearns for another life, where they’re not monster and human, where the world isn’t like this and they could have a picnic underneath the stars. And isn’t that just his luck, that the girl who he’d been ordered to use as leverage and kill had become something like an anchor. 

 

Strange times they were in. 

 

She pulls him closer on the bed; he’s waiting for her to catch some rest before he leaves, knowing the worst is to come. He can’t slay her demons but he can try to keep them at bay for as long as possible.

 

“Stay,” she murmurs, hand running up and down his arm. He gets shivers, stupidly forgetting that Kate sets everything inside him alight, that she makes him feel alive. 

 

“I know I said I wouldn’t try to jump you but you know me and restraint.” She closes the laughably small distance between them on the bed so she’s up against him. He likes this feeling, wants it more than anything but knows that he could take her soul so easily and it wasn’t an option. He has to be the one restraining them when the last thing he wants to do is that and make his jagged pieces align with hers. 

 

“Kate,” he says firmly. She would be the death of him and he didn’t care in the least. 

 

“We can go slow,” she says, a finger trailing his arm, his neck. She’s got a hand dancing at his abdomen, not daring to go under his shirt. He gulps, watching her watch him in an imperceptible manner. The dirty blonde of her hair spilling on his bed, her bangs brushes aside so he can see her blue eyes and the silver disc in the left. Her gaze is almost trance-like, making him feel like he’s been caught in headlights.“I’ve never done this before, have you?” 

 

His body is singing for hers as she speaks. He’s never had a good head when it comes to her and he’d known on the rooftop with Alice that even though she wasn’t his Kate, she  _ looked _ like her. And he’s known for a while that he could never be objective with her - she  _ was  _ trouble. 

 

“No,” August says slowly, watching as her hand tests a limit between the two of them.

 

The smile she has isn’t quite shy, and it’s not quite secretive but it looks easy. Relaxed almost. A Kate without any of this around her, the Kate he’d gotten a glimpse of when they were at the house at the edge of the world. It’s a different smile he captures inside, a reminder that not all was dark and tireless.

 

She pounces on him, body rolling onto his as she looks down. The space between them nonexistent, herself hanging centimeters from his mouth. 

 

“Tell me if you don’t want this,” she says, giving him an out if he wants to. Kate’s a lot of things, but at her core she’d always been good. A pulsing light that dimmed but wasn’t gone. He hadn’t gotten her out of his mind since she left; he’d pushed her to the back, a faded memory, but he had never once not stopped wondering where she was and if she was safe. He knew that every time he didn’t see her around he was hopeful she made it out and tired that she’d left, wishing that he could see her just one more time. She had never left his thoughts.

 

When things were simpler and he was just August, a sunai not the leader of the FTF and she was just Kate, Callum Harker’s daughter with no useful knowledge to leverage. Things were harder now, and they were simpler and the only thing he knows as fact when it comes to him and her is that what Kate wants, Kate gets. And Kate’s stuck around him longer than anyone would have assumed.

 

He nods, his own hand moving to the one she had trailing up his chest and hold it. She kisses him, fiercely, like this is a dream and he’ll disappear. For everything that’s happened in their life it’s a definite possibility. 

 

They’re more prepared for the soul issue, sinking into the null space they create together. Kate worries his lip, hands moving to cup his face. He holds them  in place, the two of them falling off the abyss together. The red light pulses, softly. He opens an eye in between to pay attention to her soul, moving them so she’s underneath. 

 

She’s breathless, the piercing blue of her eyes looking into his soul. His hands betray his unsteadiness, ghosting over her skin lightly. She huffs, placing his hand under her shirt. Anxiety floods him, unsure of what to do but it’s only through her own unshaky breathing that he remembers to relax. At the end of the day, it’s hard to forget they’re both young, children almost, made into soldiers. He as a sunai meant to reap the soul, she as the monster hunter who is brave enough to fight what it’s in the dark and reckless enough to do it alone. 

 

“Are you gonna move or are we just gonna watch you think about being a gentleman,” she says, arching her body towards his.

 

He makes a scoffing noise as she pointedly stares at his hand under her shirt and he decides to kiss her again. He moves under her shirt, up to her bra where her breast is at. 

 

The thing about Kate is that he’s never  _ not  _ known she was a girl. An attractive one, but one that he had wanted to keep as healthy distance as possible because of her name and the aura of danger. She’d never not once been a nice, normal girl, but one too intimately familiar with the violence that’s soaked into the world in a way their other peers weren’t. With them, it’s a completely different story. The harmony they stepped into when it was them against the world, how he felt more by her. (Though, he has to wonder if it’s because she’s worked on her mask for so long playing the cool girl act, that he has to feel enough for the both of them to let her be comfortable in her own emotions.) 

 

Any way you cut it, she was dangerously under his skin. Everything he knew humans could be and what they were. She wasn’t a saint, no one was, he realized in the months they were away from each other. But they could try to be better. And that was the important part. 

 

He moves to the edge of her bra, a silky feeling before he moves back to her face.

 

“You realize I don’t know anything right?” He asks, watching her as she watches him. 

 

“August, do you think that  _ I  _ know more?” She raises an eyebrow at him, his face flushing. 

 

“That’s not what I meant at all,” he says, looking back at her face. He feels foolish, fingers at the edge of the bra. 

She rolls her eyes and pushes him off her for a second, discarding her shirt. She kneels on the bed, across from him, looking at him with a plain black bra. She looks like a statue out of the renaissance, a smattering of freckles across the tops of her breasts that he can see. Guiding his hand onto her bra, she has him go under it. 

 

“Do what feels natural.” She presses his hand onto her, kneading it. His other hand goes to the other breast, rubbing absentmindedly. He’s focusing on her, and the way that her breathing has gone shallow. He decides to flick one of the breasts, closer to her nipple as she exhales roughly. 

 

“I’m not hurting you?”   
  


“No. If anything, I need you to go faster,” she replies. His brain’s short-circuiting, his own member straining against his jeans just as her warm weight leans into him. That was something new for him. She’s in his ear, himself trying hard to keep them upright. She reaches back behind her, yanking the bra as much as possible without losing the balance she’s set up on him.

 

He pushes himself back to his headboard, letting Kate’s weight sink on him as he tugs them back and sits. She’s on his lap, roping her hands around his neck. Then she starts to move against him and the grip he has on her breasts tighten, eliciting another sharp gasp.  The red light thrums but doesn’t go any brighter, wisps of it spreading around the room. He’s willing himself to not take her soul should it rise up but it never hurts to be extra vigilant so that they don’t go there.

 

“August, is there any way I can convince you to get inside of me,” she grinds out through her teeth. 

 

“ I don’t,” his brain is fried - can’t figure out what to say. She shakes her hand. “Fingers then?” 

 

“What?” 

 

“Your fingers, inside me? Anything sticking? August have you ever been to a health class or whatever?” He nips at her neck to get her to shut up, drawing a smack to his chest. 

 

“How exactly?” 

 

“I have activities beyond hunting and enchanting Sunai with my shitty people skills,” she responds, unbuttoning and unzipping as much as she could of her jeans “I’m a girl, August, my god. I have needs.” 

 

He’s more than happy to let her lead, despite her insistence that she’s just as clueless. She knows her own body and he’s never been so intimately aware of anyone like he is to her. He could hear the others in the penthouse, knew to turn away out of respect but always picking everything up by accident. This - this is new. She takes his hand and looks at it as if she were expecting something else.

 

“You have absurdly long fingers,” she says. 

 

“Good for the violin,” he says on autopilot, getting a smirk in turn. She’s singled out two of the fingers and guiding them towards her. A thrill goes through him as she moves him past her underwear to her core. Soft tendrils of hair greet his fingers as he goes in - it’s warm, soft and sticky and he really has no idea what he’s doing with her. She exhales, nodding for him to go deeper. 

 

“Sorry,” he says at her hiss. She shakes her head. 

 

“Did not expect that. Little bit of an adjustment period,” she flashes him a sharp smile, dazzling and hypnotic. “Just move? Move them, like you’re digging for something.” 

 

“Okay?” He moves his fingers in her core, the depth unexpected. The slipperiness is new and different - he’d really known nothing about humans or that health class thing she was talking about. It’s not like sunai had ever thought about it, reaping souls than striking up relationships. This was a whole new arena for him.  He doesn’t know what to do, his fingers aimless in her core. The mild discomfort she felt is not much of an issue, as he says that she’s begun moving against his fingers, hips in an unsteady rhythm. His own discomfort he ignores, as long he gets to hear her breathy sounds of approval fill the room. She’s sliding closer and closer to him, legs straddling his own, naked chest against his shirt that feels claustrophobic. 

 

He’s been watching as she watches his body appreciatively, remembering when they’re brought in she looked at him with cool indifference but her eyes had said a different story in her too quick assessment. The hand that’s still at her breasts kneads it carefully, her eyes widening as her legs opens more wide on his lap, irresistibly close. 

 

She nips at his neck suddenly, as he’s been trying to find a working pace inside of her and stutters. A soft laugh from her before her tongue follows, a wet feeling against his throat. He moves his fingers into a type of scissor formation inside, getting a yelp as she slips from the rhythm she’d been working on against his fingers and his laps. He continues as much, watching her composure slip and her nails dig through his shirt to grip at his shoulders. 

 

Her entire body seizes up against him as he changes pace once more, walking into the depth that he’d marked as unknown. It’s closer to her core, watching as she bares his neck at him, sweat slicking her bangs enough that she pushes them from her face. And as he goes deeper into her core, faster, he can feel her seize against the fingers and digging her nails into him that he has to hiss in turn. Her release is fast, his hand getting thoroughly soaked as she lets out the most silent of whimpers. 

 

“I’ve got you,” he says, watching as she shudders against him. She thumps quietly against his chest, her sharp hold on him loosening but still there. He manages to get his fingers out of her and tries to find a towel around the room. But not before he continues to hold her against his chest that he wants to rip off for a second before she rolls off him. He exhales, drained against the headboard and she throws her arm over her eyes. She looks spent and he feels his own heartbeat still going erratic. 

 

“That was a good first attempt,” she huffs.  Lying and stretching on his bed, she looks like a content cat. He smiles, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She bats at him, a smile playing across her own lips and before he realizes, her breathing falls into the pattern as she finally sleeps. He places the blanket he’d pushed to the edge over her before he gets up to leave. It was a nice memory to keep.


End file.
